


You Can Never Be Too Cautious

by oozbub



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Ambushes and Sneak Attacks, Fights, Gen, Original Character(s), Stabbing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-01-20 15:40:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18528064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oozbub/pseuds/oozbub
Summary: Nicholas gets ambushed by an especially dangerous White Mask while on a mission with his team. He's haunted by the words left with him, and it doesn't end there.3/? in Trips stories





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if I should tag this, but just in case, trigger warning, as this first chapter does take place in a school, as does the next one.

Trip slowly advanced down the hallway, the flashlight on his gun piercing through the dust. He came up to a room on his left, kicking open the door and stopping just past the doorway, scanning the area in front of him. There was a wall to his left with cubbies lined against it, and a bookshelf to his right. He furrowed his eyebrows at the lone shotgun laying on the floor in front of him, taking a few steps forward to turn and examine the rest of the room. His flashlight shone on a blackboard, then a broken window past rows of desks, then over to the bookshelves.

Light reflected off a boot on top of the last bookshelf, and he jerked to the left, dodging a bullet out of pure luck. He fired a few shots, hearing only one hit while the rest drove into the wall. He heard the boots  _thump_ to the floor, swiveling to aim towards the noise.

He was too slow and his gun was knocked out of his hands, scraping against the tile as it slid away. The flashlight broke and flickered off. He blindly swung in front of him while waiting for his eyes to adjust, feeling his fist smash into his enemies jaw. He heard his masks strap break and the mask itself clattered to the floor. He used the position of his head to estimate where his hands would be, reaching and grabbing hold of one of the White Masks wrists, taking the pistol from his hand and tossing it to the ground with his gun.

Without his mask, the terrorist couldn’t see as well as he had been able to, but that didn’t stop him from fighting back. He delivered a swift blow to Trips stomach, then put his forearm across his neck and rammed him back into a wall. He raised his leg, and felt Trips knee brush his torso, presumably raising his own leg to kick him back. He snickered and quickly kneed Trip, his eyes adjusting enough in time to see Trip slouch against the wall a bit. While he was lower, he stomped down on Trips bent knee, who then yelped and pushed himself off the wall, hands outstretched and pushing the terrorist away.

The terrorist stumbled back, but quickly regained himself and punched Trip across the face, cracking Trips visor and slicing his own knuckles in the process. Not wanting glass in his eyes, Trip did his best to avoid hits while taking off his own mask, managing to get it off just when he got another punch to the stomach. He stumbled, and the White Mask tackled him to the ground, the mask clattering on the floor next to them. The White Mask unholstered Trips pistol while Trip struggled, knocking the pistol out of his hand then trying to shove the White Mask off him, groaning in response to a blow to the face.

He could feel the weight of the terrorist's body on his own lessen as he pushed, but the terrorist resisted against him, moving his hands to choke him.


	2. Chapter One

Trip clawed at the fingers wrapped around his throat, his gloves rendering his efforts useless. His handgun lay just out of his reach, and his mask rested next to his head, cracked and rocking on its visor. He managed to get one of the hands off his throat, quickly prying the other off after and coughing as he pushed the White Mask off him. He rolled over, stretching and grabbing hold of his pistol then scrambling to his feet and pointing the gun at the terrorists’ head, who was still sitting on his knees.

“Don’t fucking move.” Trip panted, sweat dripping off his face and mixing with the blood trickling out of his nose and mouth. He wanted to pull the trigger, but his morality and the fear of being looked differently for killing an unarmed- and thus harmless- man barely stopped him. He just had to wait for someone to come collect him.

“You can’t do it.” The terrorist sounded amused, not a trace of fear in his voice. A shiver ran down Trips spine, and he just silently stared at him, firmly clutching the gun. The terrorist shifted to stand as he spoke, “You’re new. Too-”

Click.

Trip hadn’t hesitated in pulling the trigger, but the mag of the pistol was empty. He heard a chuckle and the White Mask darted up, lunging for him. Trip threw down the pistol, drawing his knife and dodging. The White Mask turned and landed on his back and Trip pounced on him, holding down his right arm and pushing the blade of the knife into his neck. The White Mask gripped Trips wrist with his free hand, wearing a sadistic look as he guided the knife not away from himself, but up his jaw. He wore this look as Trip struggled against him and he sliced through his lips, ending the cut in the top of his cheek.

Upon seeing Trips bewildered expression his grin widened, “It’s only pain, Nick.” He flung Trips knife-wielding hand away, using the moment he was in shock to push him off, grabbing his collar once he was free and brutally slamming him into the ground. He held down Trips left arm with his right foot, his left knee and shin holding down both of his legs. He knocked the knife out of Trips free hand and planted his hand on his wrist, pulling his own knife out from the holder on his hip, then reeling back and plunging the knife into Trips abdomen.

Trip cried out, thrashing weakly under the White Mask as pain shot through him. The White Mask heard quick, approaching footsteps and pushed in the knife as he leaned close, murmuring to him once he was next to his ear,

“If you live, remember me. You can call me…” He thought for a moment, then chuckled fiendishly, “Refer to me as Six.” He twisted the knife, causing Trip to scream in agony once more, then got off him and calmly strode over to a broken window, vaulting himself through the frame and disappearing.

Trips hands scrambled to find the knife, the palms of his gloves quickly becoming slathered in blood once he did. Against everything telling him not to, he seized the grip of the knife, gasping then biting his tongue as he attempted to pull the knife out. He could feel tears well up in his eyes, and his struggle with the knife wasn’t getting him anywhere, so he let go of it. His vision was partially obscured by black spots, making the process of him attempting to move and look around even more difficult.

He hissed in pain but managed to get onto his knees, swaying as he struggled to keep his balance. He pulled himself to his feet using a nearby desk just as Thermite burst through the doorway, stumbling to lean against it as Thermite hurried to his side. He couldn’t see the knife from Trips right side, but could immediately tell he was in excruciating pain,

“What happene-” He stopped talking when Trip turned towards him, nearly collapsing again. Thermite caught him, being careful to not brush the knife, “Easy there, Trip. I’ll get you out of here and to Doc, you’ll be ok.” He racked his brain to try and figure out how to carry him, knowing the knife posed an obstacle.

“P...Please, take… take the fucking knife out… It hurts.. So much…” Trip choked, tears now falling down his cheeks. He gripped onto Thermite, who felt a pang in his heart,

“You know I can’t do that, Trip. I’ll get you to Doc as soon as I can, he’ll fix you up.” He settled for carrying Trip bridal style, which presented its own issues, but he finally managed to pick him up, trying to bend his torso as little as possible. He retraced the way he came in, speaking into his radio and praying he didn’t run into a White Mask. He was nearly out of the building when he heard someone barking orders around the corner, and it certainly wasn’t anyone he knew.

“I’m going to put you down, Trip. If you can, try and be quiet, okay? If they don’t notice us, the quicker we can get out of here. I’m sorry if this hurts.” He lowered Trip to the ground, who bit his lip and managed to only let a grunt slip. Thermite pulled out his pistol, peering around the corner slowly.

He only spotted two enemies, one in front with his gun drawn- and doing a shitty job at being a lookout- and the second behind him, shouting into his radio. Thermite aimed at the head of the one in front, firing once he stood still to turn around. His body dropped, and the second terrorist hit the floor before he could even reach for his gun.

He wondered where the two had come from, pushing the thought out of his head and focusing on being careful with Trip as he hoisted him back into his arms. Trip sucked in a breath, shoving his face into Thermites vest, his short sob muffled. Once outside, Thermite sprinted to one of the heavily armored vehicles, giving the driver instructions before jumping into the back with Trip. The vehicle jolted, apparently spooking Trip who frantically grabbed onto Thermite’s arm. His grasp loosened as he calmed down, but it was clear his pain was only worsening from the look on his face.

“Hang in there, buddy. Almost there.”

When the car stopped, Thermite scooped Trip back up, slamming open the doors and calling out for Doc. He emerged from a tent, quickly spotting the two men. He waved Thermite over, hastily retreating back into the tent. There were a few other doctors in the tent, all turning and listening intently when Doc started giving them orders. Doc pointed Thermite to a cot, and then promptly ushered him out of the tent when he had put Trip down on it.


	3. Chapter Two

Nicholas was roaming around the camp the next day, walking with a slight limp and his hand over his bandaged wound, his other holding a dripping rag. The morphine was helping with the pain a lot, but not as much as it had been as he was nearing four hours since his last injection. He was aimlessly wandering around, looking for his uniform. He obviously wasn't going to wear it- Gustave would chew him out if he did- but he wanted to at least try to clean it up a bit.

Meghan had told him she saw it somewhere over… Aha! He spotted it, draped over an otherwise empty rack. He pulled the top off the rack, leaving the pants as they were only covered in dirt.

He sat down in the first chair he found, laying his uniform over his knee and going to work with the rag. When he lifted the uniform to flip it, he noticed that the blood that had seeped through the back was now running down his exposed leg.

“Ah, fuck.”

He held the jacket up, examining the previously blood stained spot when he heard someone approaching. He lowered his arms to see who it was, putting the uniform in his lap when he saw it was Jordan.

“Hey, buddy, how you feelin’?” Jordan asked, stopping in front of him.

“Mostly just out of it. A bit tired. Overall, better than I expected to after getting stabbed.” He balled the jacket up in his lap, not knowing what he was going to do about the rip in it quite yet.

Jordan noticed the diluted blood running down his calf, and pointed to it, “What’s that from? Did something else happen?”

“Oh, no, that’s just from this stupid jacket. I was getting the blood out and it decided to move to my leg instead.” He groaned and wiped at the blood, deciding it was good enough when there were only a few, barely noticeable marks left.

He struggled to push himself out of the chair, wincing at the pain that shot through his side when he bent a bit. Jordan took hold of his arm to help him up, only letting go once he was stable.

“There you go. You know, if it hurts when you do it, you probably shouldn’t do it. You know Gustave will kick your ass if you pop a stitch,” He glanced past Nicholas, causing him to turn as well, “Well, speak of the devil. Anyways, I’ve gotta run, don’t want him kicking my ass too.” He gave Nicholas a pat on the shoulder, then walked away, giving Gustave a slight wave when he passed him.

Gustave was on his phone, pointing between it and Nicholas, who nodded in acknowledgment. He walked back to the rack, hearing Gustave respond to loud words that were foreign to Nicholas through the phone with a softer, quieter tone. When he had slung the jacket back on the rack, he turned around to face Gustave, who pushed the phone into his hands. He put the phone up to his ear cautiously and recognized the speaker as Julien, who was still speaking loudly in French. Apparently, he hadn’t been told he was no longer speaking to Gustave.

“Uh, Julien?” The French stopped, and there was a period of silence, “Hello? Why was I handed the pho-”

“You need to be more careful, damn it!”

Nicholas was taken aback by the outburst, his jaw ajar. He didn’t know what to say, but it didn’t matter as Julien didn’t give him time to speak, stumbling over his words as he blurted them out,

“Do you think you’re indestructible or something, Nicholas? You- you’re so foolish! You don’t have to run ahead all the time! It’s ok to not run ahead sometimes, and in fact, sometimes it’s best- for everyone! You always do this, and it never ends well- never! You can't-”

Nicholas butt in, “I can’t what? You don’t need to tell me what I can or can’t do, I’m a grown man, I can make these decisions for myself! You’re not either of my parents.”

“You know damn well they would say the same thing, Nicholas, don’t- don’t even try that shit with me! You could have died! Your team is there for a reason, you know that, right? They’re there to help, and to work with! Not only that, but there are more lives at stake than just yours, or your teammates! The lives of innocent people, Nicholas! I know Gus has told you this before, why don’t-”

“Fuck, Julien, you think I don’t know there’s more lives at stake than just mine? That’s what I care most about, that’s why I do what I do! You don’t need to tell me shit I already know! What I’m doing is trying to help and save people, and I’ve been doing it for years!”

Juliens voice was shaky and hushed, “You can’t help and save people if you’re-” He took a deep breath, “If you’re _dead,_  Nicholas.”

Nicholas bit the inside of his cheek, handing Gustave back the phone after he heard Giles take the phone from Julien on the other side. Gustave ended the call, staring at Nicholas with a stony expression,

“He’s only worried for you.”

“I- I know that, Gustave. Everything he said was right, I… I don’t know why I argued back, I didn’t mean to get like that.” He paused, “…I don’t want him to be right. God, I really fucking wish he wasn’t right. I… need to go be by myself for a bit.”

He walked off and into a tent, rubbing his eyes and sitting down on the pile of blankets that made up a crude bed. He looked up to see Mark sitting across from him, peering over the top of a book he was reading. Nicholas averted his eyes.

Mark looked back at his book, “You okay, mate?”

“Fuckin’ phenomenal. Went off on the last person I should’ve. I’d rather piss off Mike than do what I just did again.” Nicholas slowly lay down, putting the corner of a blanket over his face.

“Huh. Sure sounds bad. If Mike’s not the one you pissed off, who was?”

“Well, Julien’s the one I was an ass to. Worst part is he’s not gonna kick my ass, and I deserve it. Maybe I’ll just fuckin’ ask someone to kick my ass for him, do you know anyone who would be willing?”

“Mh… James is always willing, in the name of boxing.”

“Sounds fair,” He wrestled with the blankets before getting them to smoothen out, then lay down, “I think I should just nap. Maybe I’ll wake up with less of a douchebag mindset. Ugh, night, Mark.”

“Night.” He hesitated to say more, apparently waiting too long as Nicholas passed out in mere seconds. Ryad would be jealous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter is only about... one-fourth of the way done, so it might take a bit to come out. i'm considering posting the couple other stories i have while im working on this one, as they're more light-hearted and have more content (18 pages in total), but they're also incomplete at the moment, and chronologically they come after this one (not that it matters as they're not really related), so im sitting on it.


	4. Chapter Three

Nicholas shot up in a panic, breathing so heavily that he started to cough. The morphine had mostly worn off, and he winced, as the coughing just made his wound hurt more. His throat burned when the coughs got more hoarse, and when he was done he tiredly lay back down, not even getting the time to close his eyes before he heard the tent open, leaning to look at who it was. Unsurprisingly, it was Gustave.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

“Hey. I’m good, it was just coughing. Kinda hurt though, fuckin’ morphine stopped doing its thing.”

“Come,” Gustave said simply, walking out of the tent when Nicholas got up to follow him. Nicholas didn’t wait to speak, trailing behind Gustave,

“How… Uhm.” He grunted, pushing away the shame he felt in his mind, “How’s Julien doing?”

“Gilles said he’s not angry anymore, but he’s bitten his nails to the bone. I think he wants to speak with you soon.” Gustave walked into another tent, which faintly smelled of hydrogen peroxide. Nicholas stopped in the entrance for a moment, then continued.

“I want to talk to him too.”

Gustave ushered Nicholas to a seat next to one of the rickety-looking tables, going through his meticulously organized supplies and removing a syringe, and a small vial. Nicholas rolled up his short sleeve and held out his arm, twisted so his bicep was exposed, and Gustave wiped a small section of it. He watched Gustave quietly before speaking again.

“The terrorist said something to me. He was trying to mess with me.”

“They’re all like that, Nicholas.”

“I know, but… this one. He’s special, he told me to call him Six-”

“He’s just looking for your attention- to scare you and to find a way to haunt you even when he’s gone.”

“Gustave, let me finish. He knew my name, he called me Nick.”

Gustave stopped flicking the syringe, “What?”

“He called me Nick,” He repeated, shifting on the chair, “I can’t tell if he knows my name, or if he called me that specifically to get under my skin more.”

Gustave was silent, thinking for a moment before taking hold of Nicholas’s arm, injecting the morphine as he spoke, “Have you told anyone else about this?”

“Not yet-"

“You need to. As soon as possible, this could be dangerous for all of us.”

Gustave put the syringe on a paper towel, hurriedly applying a bandaid then dragging Nicholas out of the tent. He was typing a number into his phone, almost clicking the call button before he even entered the last digit.

“Six, we may have a situation.” Gustave summed up the situation, then passed the phone to Nicholas, “Explain everything that happened, even if you think it’s not important.”

Nicholas didn’t even get the chance to open his mouth before he was bombarded with questions from the other side, answering with a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ as quickly as he could. Finally, the questions slowed to a stop and Nicholas described the whole situation in detail, from the beginning. He was told to spread the word that they were only to refer to each other by their codenames until this was figured out, but otherwise continue as normal, then the call was ended. He handed Gustave back his phone,

“Uh, Six says hi, and to only call each other by codenames, even in private.” Nicholas was visibly nervous, picking at his nails with shaky, sweaty hands and shifting his feet, “I’m uh… gonna go tell everyone else.”

 

Nicholas returned to his tent, hands still trembling a bit and his face flushed. He had successfully spread the news, but now he was feeling like shit. All the talking about it had him anxious- convinced this data-breach situation was somehow his fault.

He sat down on his pile of blankets, sitting in silence while thoughts began to wander. After a substantial amount of time spent wallowing, he forced himself to snap out of it and took out his phone, dialing Juliens number. No answer- his connection must be too poor. He scooted a bit, then tried again. This time, the call went through and Julien picked up, though he didn’t say anything.

“Ju-…” He remembered what Six had told him. He hated this. “Uhm… Are you there?”

“…I’m here.” He was quiet, but his tone was firm.

Nicholas gulped, then took a deep breath, “I just… wanted to say that… I’m sorry for how I was yesterday.” There was silence from both sides as Nicholas scraped his mind for how to properly say what he wanted to. Julien spoke first,

“I forgive you," He paused for a moment before continuing, a bit louder now, “I know how you feel about going ahead. I was scared for you but I didn’t need to get so worked up either.”

“No, don’t- don’t apologize to me. I should be more careful, and you have every right to feel how you did. No-” He stopped talking when he heard Six’s voice in the background on the other side, “Is that for you? It sounds important.”

“I think so. Hold on.”

Nicholas could tell Julien put his hand over the mic of the phone, their voices sounding like he was trying to listen through a pillow underwater.

Julien was back soon enough, “We’ve got an update on your situation. He’s already told Meghan, but apparently there was a data breach two days ago, somehow undetected without specifically looking for it. Grace is working on it right now.”

“Wait, already? That was only reported in about an hour and a half ago.”

“She works fast. Six says the person who did it doesn’t know how to cover their tracks, but the ones they leave aren’t very helpful. Grace thinks they hired someone to do it, she says there’s no way a White Mask did this unless they suddenly have someone very special. She said only the files were touched, there’s no way it something other than a hacker or more would’ve been tampered with.”

Nicholas let out a sigh of relief, “Well, at least that means I don’t have to worry about spies.”

“That’s always good,” Julien chuckled, “But Nicholas, still be careful. She also thinks the files on this mission were compromised, which is how and why they got know your name. Keep your guard up, okay?"

“I will, I promise.”

“I’m glad… I think I have to go, I’ll talk to you later. Again, be safe.”

“You too, Julien. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Julien hesitated to hang up, and Meghan poked her head into the tent when he did,

“Did you get the update?” She questioned, walking in fully when she saw him turn the phone off and put it down.

“About the data breach? Just now, yeah. It’s terrifying knowing someone had that kind of access, I didn’t even know it was possible. We work with some of the smartest people on the planet, and even still…” He shivered.

“Is it just now hitting you? Or were you expecting something else…?”

He laughed nervously, “I guess I kind of felt like it was somehow my fault. I dunno, I was worried I said something I shouldn’t have somewhere I shouldn’t have.”

Meghan sat down next to him, crossing her legs and looking at him, “Is that what had you all jittery earlier?”

“What? Was I really jittery?” He grimaced when she nodded, “Awkward…”

“I doubt anyone else really noticed. Jordan, Elias, and Yumiko were shoving food down their throats when you talked to them,” She gave him a firm pat on the shoulder, “There are more important things to worry about, anyway. Focus on the present and do better in the future, you’ll never fix things if you’re too focused on how to fix them. Sometimes they don’t even need fixing.”

He nodded, “You’re right. Thanks, Meghan.”

“Anytime.” She gave him a smile, standing up and checking to be sure she didn’t have dirt on her pants, “You should come out and eat lunch soon. If you don’t, I’ll sic Monika and Elias on you. Either that or Gustave will come in here himself and drag you out.”

“A momma bear, that man. I’ll go eat in a few minutes.”

“Good. I’ll see you around. Oh- and Nicholas? I’m sure you’ve been told this, but be alert and ready. We need to be on guard now that there’s the possibility they had access to the files on this mission.”

Nicholas watched as she left the tent, then got up and looked over the barely-organized surface of his makeshift desk. He organized a few papers, stacking them in a neat pile and shoving them into a binder. Now with clear space, he pulled out a clean sheet of paper and messily wrote down everything he knew about the terrorist who had ambushed him- which wasn’t much aside from a wonky sketch next to a bare-bones description- and pressed a sticky note on top of it when he was done. He hesitated, not sure what name to give it at first. He settled for scrawling ‘bitch’ on it when he decided he didn’t want to waste time that could be spent eating on some dumb name.

Close enough to satisfied, he exited the tent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> same sitch as the last chapters end note, the next chapter isn't done yet... haven't even started it, in fact. i've got an idea, but idk if i wanna go through with it. we'll see


	5. Chapter Four

Sitting on a supply crate, Nicholas tapped his pen on the clipboard in his hands. He had spent the past hour scraping his memory for anything about the terrorist who had ambushed him but hadn’t really gotten anywhere with it. He sighed, putting the pen in his pocket and deciding to walk around for a bit. He had no idea what to do, there wasn’t another attack mission planned until the next day, and it was unclear if he would even be able to tag along.

He wasn’t sure where he was going, but he figured wandering might distract him enough so he could get back to his recollection with a fresh mind. He passed the large spot marked for the helo, stopping for a moment to hide in the shade of one of the blades.

He could see most of the camp from here, as the ground was raised quite a bit. He could see the chain link fence topped by barbed wire encircling the camp, the sniper tower- no duh, it was visible nearly everywhere- and the various different tents. He noticed a rip in the top of the canteen tent, suddenly realizing why it was so bright when he was eating lunch yesterday. His stomach growled, reminding him of how he hadn’t had breakfast yet.

Making his way down the mound, the sun shone in his eyes once again, and he rose his hand to shield his face. He stumbled when he was surprised by a loud clatter from somewhere above him, nearly falling and sliding down the dirt on his face. He looked up in time to see the sniper's body crumple over the railing of the tower and he cried out, blood spilling out of his torso and raining onto the dirt below.

Nicholas heard someone shout, and he instinctively pulled his revolver out of its holster, getting to the closest tent for cover and trying to approximate where the shooter was. Wherever he was, he was too far to get hit by the pistol, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have friends nearby. Regardless, Nicholas desperately needed his normal gun. He tore his eyes away from the background to see the sniper lowering himself to the floor, trying to crawl to the stairs.

All of his senses told him to stay put, wait until the situation was more under control, until they knew where the enemies were, until he had more than his pistol, until it was even .01% safer, but seeing the snipers face silenced his thoughts. His scrunched nose, his watery eyes, his gritted teeth that were holding back whimpers. He knew what he was getting himself into, but that didn’t mean he should die.

Nicholas didn’t give himself time to think before racing to the inside corner of the tower, scaling his way up and biting his lip when he felt strain on his stitches. He ignored it and kept climbing until he got to the stairs, pulling himself over the railing and onto the platform. He crouch-walked up the steps to the sniper, keeping his head below the metal half walls. The snipers head rolled to look at Nicholas, fearful hazel eyes piercing his green ones. Nicholas stopped next to him, drowning out the gunshots and reading his last name stitched into his uniform's pocket,

“Don’t worry, Mor-”

“David. I’m David. Please, don’t... Don’t let me die.” He pleaded, grasping onto Nicholas’s pant leg.

“I won't, David. Where exactly were you shot?” Nicholas helped David pull his uniform and tank top back, revealing the bullet hole right below his chest. Nicholas observed it for a moment, rifling through his limited medical knowledge. He knew what he needed to know when he was a firefighter, but he was never a part of the paramedics' team, only ever a fill-in when absolutely necessary.

Seeing the bloody bullet on the floor next to him, Nicholas concluded the bullet went straight through him. He placed Davids hands over his injury, pushing down on top of them,

“I need you to put pressure on it like that, okay?”

David nodded.

Nicholas crept over to the desk in the middle of the tower, taking the flask off the top, then rummaging around inside the cabinets. He found gauze and bandages, ripping the gauze in half and folding the two pieces into thick squares. He held up the flask,

“This isn’t alcohol, right?”

David shook his head, “It’s water.”

Nicholas nodded approvingly, moving back to him then proceeding to have a bit of struggle propping David up, doing his best to wash the blood away from his wounds. He had even more trouble attempting to hold the gauze in place while trying to wrap the bandages around it, but it was easier since David was able to help a decent amount.

Nicholas gently lowered David back down and picked up his gun, frozen in place for a moment when how he felt hit him. Even though he didn’t know the man, he felt empathy and fear for him. He realized that if he felt this strongly about a stranger, god knows how much harder it was for Jordan to carry him, and for Julien to hear about it and be unable to even see him in person. He gulped, shaking away his thoughts. He needed to focus on keeping the base safe, not on how he was feeling. That wouldn’t save anyone, not right now.

Peering through the slits in the barrier, he couldn’t see anyone, but he noted the fire was less intense than it was before. He prayed this was due to the enemy being weakened, and not the other way around. He peeked over the top of the railing, then quickly ducked back down when he realized it was quite possibly the dumbest idea he had yet. He pulled his radio off his belt, having completely forgotten about it until now, and put it up to his ear. It was quiet.

“Hello? Anyone?” He didn’t have to wait more than a second for a response from Monika,

“Trip? Where are you, why have you been silent until now?”

“I’m in the snipers' tower, I was trying to stabilize him,” He glanced behind him, “He’s hanging in there for now. What’s the situation?”

“We’ve counted ten of them so far, excluding a… special looking one, who looks to be their leader. We’ve taken down all but two of them- including him. They’re to the southwest, taking cover behind the hill.”

Nicholas was beaten to the button of the radio by Elias, “Gustave’s been hit. It’s not life threatening- I don’t think- but it went straight through his leg and he can barely stand with my help. He can’t do much about it himself, and I don’t have much medical training, I can’t help him.”

“I’ll be over to you- where are you?” Jordan inquired.

“No, I’ll do it Jordan. You’re a better shot than I am, you’re more vital to defending. Trust me on this one.” Nicholas said, putting the gun down and shuffling over to David.

“Roger. Be careful getting down from that tower, I’ll cover you.”

“Thanks. I’ll come down the east side behind the panels so hopefully, it won't be necessary. Elias, where are you?”

“We’re inside the canteen, you’ll see us when you come in.” Gustave was muttering in the background of Elias’s talking, but Nicholas couldn’t make out what he was saying.

“I’m on my way.” Nicholas put his radio back on his belt, stuffing a roll of gauze and bandages into his pockets then turning to David, “I’m gonna pick you up, okay? I need you to hold on as best as you can, we’re going down the side of the tower.”

“Down the side…? Got it…” David drawled, a lot more exhausted now that he was no longer so hyped up on adrenaline.

Nicholas slung him over his shoulder, staying as low as he possibly could. David groaned in pain. “Sorry, David. Just hang in there.” When he felt arms and legs wrap around him, he pulled himself over the side of the tower, keeping his eyes focused on the bars immediately below him instead of the dirt that looked a million miles away. He carefully picked his way down the support beams, feeling his arms start to burn when he was about halfway down. He held the beams tighter, trying to ignore the heat of the metal and the burn in his muscles.

He reached the bottom, quickly sprinting over to Yumiko, who had assumed his previous spot behind the vehicles tent. He ducked past her, giving her a short nod and looking for the best way over to the canteen.

He scampered from behind one stack of crates to the next, and David sharply inhaled from all the jostling. He gave him a gentle pat on the leg,

“Almost there.”

Elias looked up when Nicholas stumbled into the canteen, putting David down on a nearby table and then coming over to Gustave. He was no doubt tired, sitting on one of the benches with back slouched and his leg up, bleeding heavily. Elias moved out of the way, deciding to make small talk with David to keep him awake while Nicholas focused on Gustave, who gave him a grateful nod.

Nicholas got a water bottle, then proceeded the same way he had with David, but with a bit more ease. Gustave barely reacted as Nicholas patched him up, watching carefully, but his breath hitched when he tied the bandages.

Nicholas looked over at Elias, “I need something to make a tourniquet with. I don’t think I’ll need to use it, but I don’t want to be without one if I do. Watch them while-”

“I’ll look for something, you should be closest to them, you’ll know what to do if something happens.”

“Alright. If you can’t find anything else, a shirt or something will work.”

Elias nodded, starting by going off into the separated kitchen section of the canteen, figuring he might find a chefs apron at the very least. Hopefully a clean one.

Nicholas looked between the two other men, uncomfortable with the distance between them. David wasn’t that far, only a table away, but Nicholas still didn’t like it. He went over to him, picking him up and laying him on the far end of Gustave’s table, his head resting near Gustave's arm.

Gustave snapped out of his haze, looking over at David and scooting a bit closer to him, “I’ll check up on him, just to make sure.” He started to dig through his coat's pockets.

Nicholas chuckled lightly, “Even when you’re like this, you still insist on playing doctor.”

“And even when you’re injured like you are, you insist on scaling the side of a tower.” He retorted, glancing up to notice Nicholas flush pink,

“You saw that?” He asked.

“Yes, you weren’t particularly stealthy. Did you pop a stitch?” Gustave didn’t give him time to respond before tugging up his shirt, “Hm. You’re lucky.”

Nicholas frowned, yanking his shirt back down, “I couldn’t just leave him up there. ‘N’ don’t pull at my shirt like that, I don’t appreciate it. I would’ve shown you.”

“My apologies. Anyway, it wasn’t a bad thing you went to help him, he’d probably be dead if you hadn’t. I was meaning to commend you, actually. It was… courageous of you to do so. Your hastiness saved a life, and I respect you for it.”

“I’m eternally grateful… I’m sure my wife is too. Thank you.” David added from the table, feeling around and managing to give Nicholas a weak squeeze on the arm.

Nicholas was still flustered, but now for a different reason, “I’m… glad I could help. Oh, but Gustave, maybe don’t mention this to Julien unless he asks… I think he gets more upset having the information relayed through someone to him, so I’ll tell him myself. Well, eventually I will.”

Gustave lightly exhaled, amused, “You’d best.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you saw the original edit of this, im super embarrassed... proof reading is important kids, you dont want to say "luckily the wound didnt look to deep" then immediately state that the bullet went all the way through him. whoops hahaha


End file.
